


A Hypothesis

by Listenerofshadows



Series: Sander Sides One-Shots [15]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (no major character death I promise), Gen, He just pretends he doesn't, Logan has a heart, Logan is a mad scientist, Patton is his superhero adversary, Patton is trying his best, Superhero!AU, death mention, deceit mention, depression tw, self deprecation tw, suicidal implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: "If there was one word that described the hero, it was just that; hope. The hero was perpetually hopeful that there was good in every person. He was hopeful in happy endings. He was hopeful that things could change for the better in the current system.So why was Catton standing at the door of his latest laboratory, looking up at him through eyes so disheartened? Eyes that looked so defeated—so hopeless?"





	A Hypothesis

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off a [text post](https://messythoughtsandscribbledplots.tumblr.com/post/177110097057/i-cant-do-this-anymore-the-villain-stared-in) by tumblr user @messythoughtsandscribbledplots that was floating around. @Stillebesat on Tumblr did a [fantastic version of it w/ Prinixety](https://stillebesat.tumblr.com/post/178091496618/a-heros-rescue) but I thought I'd try my hand at it with Logicality ;)

If there was one thing that a mad scientist could always count on in a super-infested world, was that there was always a hero that stepped in the way of progress. Not that Dr. Logan Lockwood saw himself as mad, as mad people are rarely wont to do. 

Nor did he see himself as evil—though many people would prescribe that label to him. Some people argued he was simply an anti-hero, but frankly Logan could care less. The labels of good and evil are arguably meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

It was unfortunate he happened to live in a world that insisted on viewing things so black and white. They refused to see the barrage of greys that shaded their streets. A person who committed a crime had to be evil. Never mind that it was an act driven by desperation. Driven by the lack of care society had on actually fixing their problems. They refused to see how their ignorance was their downfall.

Take the hero that frequently attempted to stop his plans for instance. Catton was the typical hero—annoyingly naïve and cheerful. He sprouted off puns and dad jokes that made Logan’s teeth gnash in irritation. But there was something to be said of the hero’s genuineness.

There was a lot of heroes who donned a suit just for the fame and glory, Prince Charming was one of them. But Catton was the rare few who helped just to help out others. He refused sponsorship offers. He did the little stuff, like saving cats out of trees and helping grannies across the street. It made it all the more frustrating when Catton refused to see the truth dancing across his eyes.

He remained stubborn in his view of good and evil. He constantly begged for Logan to give up his plans, to return to the light side in a sense. Logan scoffed at the very notion. Even if he agreed to Catton’s wishes, it wasn’t that simple. He’d done too much damage—it was too late to go back. The best he could hope for was life in prison.

Still, the hero asked every time—his pleading smile never breaking. Catton was such an emotional fool. A smarter hero would’ve given up on the fifth try. Anyone could see that Logan remained resolute in his plans. But Catton clung to his wishes, hopeful that Logan would change his mind.

If there was one word that described the hero, it was just that; hope. The hero was perpetually hopeful that there was good in every person. He was hopeful in happy endings. He was hopeful that things could change for the better in the current system.

So why was Catton standing at the door of his latest laboratory, looking up at him through eyes so disheartened? Eyes that looked so defeated—so  _hopeless_?

“I will admit, I didn’t plan for our game of cat and mouse to begin so early.” Logan said, lips twitching, “I suppose this means I’ll have to relocate my—”

“I can’t do this anymore.” Catton interrupted.

The four words caused Logan to pause in his tracks. There was something about them that produced a sensation in his chest. It was an emotion and Logan was never good at deciphering emotions. But he was sure that this particular one was a negative emotion. Sadness? Anger? Revulsion?

It was not directed at Catton, but at whoever or whatever caused him to say those words.

He stayed silent, analyzing Catton closer. He was no Sherlock Holmes, although he was very much fond of that man. When he was younger and less callous of the world he cosplayed him at several conventions. Once his former roommate made a fanfiction featuring himself as a replacement of Watson. Logan would deny it to the hills and back, but that fanfic held a place of honor among the classics on Logan’s bookshelf.

It was snowing this evening—not a blizzard but a light dusting. Catton never complained about the snow; he could be found conducting snowball fights or building snowmen with children. But despite his suit’s thick insulation, he was shivering, and Logan doubted it was because of the snow itself.

The hero’s hair was always unkempt and messy—but today it looked greasy and almost matted. Dark circles clung underneath the hero’s eyes—threatening to weigh them like bowling balls. It was clear that Catton had not been taking proper care of himself.

Another wretched emotion entered Logan’s being—shock. Although it was always a possibility, he never accounted for Catton to be capable of anything but cheery. Nothing leading up to this could seem to break the man’s optimism. In days past, Logan dreamed of the moment where Catton broke free of his naivety.

Now the day had come, and Logan, staring down at the man in front of him, realized he now desired none of that. It wasn’t right—it felt wrong to see Catton practically sitting at his feet, crushed and defeated.

He opened his mouth a few times but found himself speechless. Catton took a shallow breath, his figure trembling.

“I can’t do this. I—I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to keep fighting. Just…just k-kill me. Or lock me up. Or whatever you’ve been planning this whole time, I don’t care anymore. But I can’t do this. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t…I can’t keep fighting you—"

Catton fell onto the ground as his words dissolved into sobs. Something pressed against Logan’s chest. There was so many emotions swirling inside the scientist that he felt nauseous. But this emotion was fierce and shouted over the clanging of the others. It demanded to be listened to—to be obeyed by Logan himself.

Compelled by this strange emotion, Logan moved forward towards the hero.

“Hush, little kitten, who did this to you?” He spoke, drawing Catton’s figure into his arms.

He was afraid for a moment he had made things worse. Catton had flinched when he spoke and seemed paralyzed in shock by his gentle touch. He’d heard that soft words and positive physical touch helped calm others down. He figured it had the same effect on Catton and he was relieved as the hero slowly relaxed completely in his arms. Trust Catton to immediately trust someone after they show a sign of goodwill.

He still sobbed against Logan’s frame, if anything he sobbed louder. He looked so weak and weary when he looked up at Logan, his sobs dissipating. He looked like he wanted to continue crying—but had lost the energy to do so.

Logan bit his lip. He could barely understand his own emotions, much less the emotions of somebody else. But the last thing he was going to was leave the hero stranded in the cold in such a state of emotional duress.

Catton had practically asked him to kill him after all. He probably came to Logan as the two had a rivalry—a history. Catton quickly became established as his main adversary. In fact, Logan sometimes refused to fight anyone but Catton. He claimed it was because he knew Catton’s attack patterns the best. While that was true, there was also another underlying reason.

He was…fond of Catton. The puns had admittedly grown on him, though that’d be the last thing he’d ever admit to Catton. Despite his numerous attacks on Catton’s intelligence—he was smarter than other heroes Logan encountered. It was illogical to the success of his plans, but well—Logan liked a challenge.

Logan, however, wasn’t the only villain that Catton faced. If he turned away Catton now, he might go to one of the others with the same request. Logan doubted any of them would be as kind as him. They’d seize such an opportunity to humiliate him further or off him right off the bat. Especially if he went to a certain snake.

“Why don’t you come inside and have a cup of tea?” He suggested, pulling out of the hug.

“What?” Catton asked, dumbfounded. Which, he had a right to react in such a way.

Logan preferred to remain distant and cold despite Catton’s best attempts otherwise. It appeared, however, that despite the odds, Catton’s attempts worked after all. It was illogical for Logan to offer aid to an enemy. It hindered his plans. But logic went out the door the second he opened it to see a downtrodden Catton.

“You implied I could do whatever I wanted with you,” Logan rose an eyebrow, “I’m asking for you to join me inside. It’s warmer there, and you may have a cup of tea if you’d like. I promise on Albert Einstein’s grave that you’ll be safe there.”

 _‘I won’t let you be harmed by them anymore.’_  Logan mentally added onto that statement.

An extra burst of air went through Catton’s nose which Logan took to mean he found his oath by Albert Einstein’s grave to be amusing. It was the first sign he’d seen of the old Catton and the villain would take it.

“Okay.” Catton whispered, and followed after Logan inside the laboratory, through its’ winding hallways. He peered around, wary of any potential traps. A logical reaction for one not used to strolling through a mad scientist’s residency peacefully.

Logan opened a door and led him into his personal quarters. Catton gasped at the homely sight. Straight ahead there was a small hallway that led to a bedroom and a bathroom. To the left of where they stood was a sitting area with chairs and walls lines with bookshelves. A fireplace crackled away merrily. It was quaint and outdated but it reminded Logan of his childhood days in boy scouts. He’d almost been an eagle scout until that one incident occurred.

The right side of the quarters opened up to a small kitchen area, with enough space for a small table and two chairs. Logan wasn’t sure why he invested in more than one chair—it wasn’t like he had guests.

He turned to look at the hero, who still looked in awe of the place.

“What, did you believe I came out of a test tube in a laboratory somewhere?” He drily asked, withholding a chuckle.

“N-n-no, I just—well I guess I never thought of you having a life outside of a lab.” Catton sheepishly admitted, his lips chattering.

Logan frowned, observing how the hero wrapped his arms around himself. Perhaps the cold had affected him more than Logan had presumed.

“Why don’t you warm yourself by the fire while I make the tea?” He said. He didn’t wait for answer as he strolled towards the kitchen and grabbed his kettle. While he waited for the whistle, he stole glances towards the hero sitting huddled by the fire. What was going on in his head?

It was moments like these that Logan wished he could read minds.

“Here you go,” Logan said, at last bringing the tea to Catton. The hero hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking it.

Two sipped quietly for a minute or two before Logan couldn’t quell his curiosity any further.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.”

“Which one?” Catton asked, absentmindedly stirring his tea with his finger.

“Who hurt you?”

The hero stared down at the contents of the teacup, “No one—I’m not—no one hurt me, Logan. See I don’t have any bruises or broken bones—to make no bones about it!”

Catton giggled at his joke—strained and wound-up like a wind-up toy. An obvious ploy at deflection.

“I don’t mean physically, Catton. I mean emotionally.”

“I’m fine—”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted, “you clearly are not fine. It is obvious you have not showered in several days nor retained an adequate amount of sleep. Furthermore, people who are fine do not go to their archnemesis and beg them to practically kill them. So again, I ask, who hurt you?”

The hero’s smile fell entirely. He slumped over and took on the weariness of a man thirty years his senior. It felt wrong to see Catton in such a state. He’d always came off as a weird dichotomy of a father figure and inner child rolled into one.

“I’m just so…tired. I thought I could make things better—make things safer. I tried—tried so hard, but it never ends. There’re always more bad guys to fight, more crises to avert. If—if anything I’ve just made things worse. Do you know how many have died this year alone from super fights?”

“Don’t—”

“One-thousand five hundred and nine deaths,” Catton said, his hands trembling as he held onto his cup, “One-thousand five hundred and nine deaths that I inflicted.”

Logan gently pried the teacup out of his hands.

“You can’t look at it that way, Catton. Think about the amount of lives you saved—”

“If wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t be dead!” He shouted, “You don’t get it. There are supervillains who’ve traveled here from all over the world to cause havoc just to personally fight me. They just treat it like it’s—it’s a game. Then there’s the villains that I…created.”

“Catton, no. Deceit is not your fault.”

“If I had just known—if I hadn’t reacted in that way—” Catton hiccupped, “I thought if I could just keep smiling—I could just make one more joke—save the city one more time everything would be fine. But I can’t—I can’t do it anymore, Logan. Please.”

The hero looked up at him, wide-eyed and pleading. Logan sighed, setting down his own cup on the coffee table.

“I am not going to kill or torture you, if that is what you think I’m going to do. In fact, I’m a bit peeved you would think so lowly of me.”

“You always threatened me with it.” Catton said, his lips wobbling.

“Well, that was just typical villain drivel, I thought you’d be smart enough to know that, Catton.” Logan scoffed, though he was secretly glad to see Catton’s lips twitch upwards in amusement. He continued on, “besides, doing either of those two things would solve nothing. Especially since you are undeserving of either of those two fates.”

“But I am deserving—”

“Falsehood,” Logan said, holding up a hand, “it’s not your fault—it’s society’s fault that the system remains broken. Do you think removing yourself from the equation will change anything? There would just be further chaos regardless if a new hero steps up or not. You kept doing the same thing and expected different results, which is the definition of insanity. Ironic, considering people call me a mad scientist. If you want to change the world—you have to change how the world thinks.

“Furthermore, your life is valuable. The odds of your existence are infinitesimal—and yes, I am using that word correctly this time! Your existence is unique, and it is doubtless that it would be incredibly missed by others and by…me.”

Catton gazed at him for a moment. Its unnerved Logan, because Catton had never been the type to silently process things. But perhaps, he didn’t know Catton as well as he thought he did. Finally, Catton broke into a grin.

“Aw, Logan, so you do care about me.” Catton teased, close to tears. Hopefully happy tears this time.

“Yes, well, I suppose I do care about you as a friend, Catton.”

“Patton.”

“What?”

“My real name is Patton Pattison,” He sheepishly fidgeted under Logan’s shocked gaze, “What? It felt weird that I know your real name when you don’t even know mine.”

“Are you saying that your superhero name is a self-referential pun?” Logan’s eyebrow twitched.

“Maaaybe.” Patton said, laughing at Logan’s groan.

He quickly slipped back into a more serious demeanor, “I just—I don’t know if I can do that, Logan. Change society, I mean. I still want to help people but—I’m still exhausted. Is it selfish for me to just want a normal life?”

Logan’s gaze softened, “I’m probably not the best person answer that question—but perhaps the best way to change the world isn’t through becoming a superhero or even a mad scientist. Maybe…there’s other ways to do it.”

“Like…living a normal life?”

“Perhaps, but that is only a hypothesis,” Logan winked, “would you be willing to test it out with me?”


End file.
